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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240420">Curious Places</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meisiluosi/pseuds/Meisiluosi'>Meisiluosi</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Andrastianism (Dragon Age), City Elf (Dragon Age) Origin, City Elf Culture and Customs, City Elves, Crisis of Faith, Denial of Feelings, Elven Andrastianism, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Lennan needs a break, Lennan needs a hug, Loss of Faith, M/M, Prayer, a shared prayer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:08:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25240420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meisiluosi/pseuds/Meisiluosi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Blight and the civil war have deeply shaken Lennan Tabris’s already dwindling faith in the Maker.<br/>But nothing can erode Zev’s faith in Lennan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zevran Arainai/Male Tabris, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden, Zevran Arainai/Warden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Curious Places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>One of the entries for ZevWarden Week 2020. The prompt was "Faith".<br/>...<br/>In my timeline, going to Haven and saving Eamon is the last thing Lennan does before the Landsmeet. This happens on their way there.<br/>Lenn and Zev are both Andrastians, but of two very different traditions.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The tired, spent summer is bleeding into early autumn and the nights are growing colder.</p><p>The soft <em>clack clack clack</em> of Lenn’s prayer beads is the only sound in the abandoned chantry. It’s an hour after sunset and his one source of light are the sad remnants of candles the fleeing villagers left behind – pools of dirty wax nobody bothered to scrape off the floor.</p><p>The Lady of the baskets still reigns, yet he is praying to the Lady of the pathways, even though her time won’t arrive until the first snowfall. He’s been praying to her and only her ever since Ostagar.<br/>
And he has never needed her guidance more than now. When Wynne told them of the purge and the plague, persuading Darrian not to turn on his heel and run straight to Denerim was quite a feat. Persuading himself was harder.<br/>
His brother will always follow his lead in the end – but whom is Lennan supposed to follow?</p><p>There’s no point going back to Denerim until they’re able to deal with Loghain and they can’t do that without the Guerrins’ help. Lenn knows that, yet he must remind himself of it each and every morning and his feet get heavier by the day; it feels as if he’s trudging through waist-deep snow – and they haven’t even reached the Frostbacks yet.</p><p>The clicking of the beads, his voiceless prayer, echoes lonely and unheard, muffled by the terrible weight of the indifferent silence in this shemlen place of worship.<br/>
The niche above the altar in front of him is empty. A sculpture or an icon of the Lady must have occupied the spot not so long ago but the villagers probably took it with them.<br/>
Even amid all the desolation, this is a marked absence.<br/>
Here has been abandoned by the people and forgotten by the Maker. Where do you even start looking for him in a place like this?</p><p>As thoughts do, that fleeting notion attracts another and his eyes fall on the small old prayer book laid on a folded cloth in front of him.</p><p><em>“Turn your gaze within, child, look into your heart and behold the throne of the Maker." </em><br/>
Father’s favourite verse.</p><p>And the memory of Cyrion bids more memories and fears to flutter to light and to the forefront of Lenn’s mind, unwanted and overwhelming.<br/>
He pauses just a few beads shy of completing the round – and the pause and the silence extend, beat after beat.</p><p>"An incomplete cycle, <em>bello</em>? That’s ill fortune.”</p><p>Startled, Lenn turns to see Zev emerge from the shadows and cross the distance to the altar. He kneels down next to him, takes his free hand and entwines their fingers.<br/>
Lennan freezes for a second but he relaxes back into the moment and the comforting warmth of Zev’s hand and the soft gleam of Zev’s eyes.</p><p>“How would you know it’s not complete?” he asks, attempting a smile and managing a sad smirk.</p><p>“The last bead has a different clink to it,” Zev replies. “And you haven’t put them round your neck yet.”</p><p>Yes. Five more verses… Four bone beads and a silver one.<br/>
This time Lennan lends his voice to his prayer, even if just barely.<br/>
“Show me the higher road,” he begins, hesitantly, unused to the sound of his own voice carrying his prayers. “Bless me with purpose and strength. Carve my path through the snow. Guide me through blizzard and storm. Light of my path, lead me to the sun.”</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p>Zevran listens and he hears Lenn struggling with each verse. He might know the words by heart but his heart isn’t in them.</p><p>The final verse concludes, barely a whisper - and silence falls again.<br/>
Lennan’s head dips lower. He’s a dark outline in the halo of flickering candlelight – a perfect image of misery. His grip on Zev’s hand tightens just a little – a quiet plea for help, as explicit as Lenn is ever going to get where his own struggles are concerned.<br/>
Zevran returns the gesture, giving Lenn’s hand a soft reassuring squeeze – and his heart swells with an emotion he doesn’t quite dare to name or place.</p><p>Lennan closes his fist around the prayer beads. “Doesn’t feel like there’s anybody there,” he says.</p><p>“Perhaps you’ve been looking in the wrong places,” Zev remarks.</p><p>“Look into your heart and behold the throne of the Maker,” Lenn whispers – then snickers. A sad, ironic sound.</p><p>“People lose their hearts in curious places, I’ve heard,” Zev replies. “Or perhaps you’ve walled yours up too well?” A frivolous teasing remark and he isn’t even certain what he meant by it. All he knows is he longs to brighten up the mood, if only the tiniest amount.</p><p>Their eyes meet, even as he says it – and something clicks into place.<br/>
That familiar guarded warmth of his Warden’s eyes gives way to raw emotion, every shade of it, as his impeccable facade begins to crumble. Zevran is stunned into shocked silence for a second but he recovers his wits fast enough to draw Lenn into a firm embrace.</p><p>At first there’s no sound besides Lennan’s muffled sobs, but after a while, Zev begins to whisper soft reassurances as he rocks Lenn back and forth and strokes his hair: “It’s going to be alright. If I learned anything about the Tabrises it’s that they’re tough. Your father and your cousins will be fine.” Foolish hopes at best and outright lies at worst – but Lennan Tabris has shouldered enough harsh truths to crumble the foundations of a kingdom.</p><p>Lenn withdraws and lets his hands fall into his lap. He shakes his head and once again tension pulls at his shoulders and his features – but this time he conquers it. He sniffles and wipes his eyes and his nose. The guarded, collected mask is back in place. He manages a smile, albeit an unconvincing one. “Thank you, Zev. I’m–I think I’m good.”</p><p>No, he isn’t.</p><p>It breaks Zevran’s heart to see him like that and once again, his own unnamed feelings catch him off guard.</p><p>Lenn gently lays his prayer beads next to that worn prayer book in front of him and Zev’s eyes and thoughts follow the motion – and linger there even when Lennan’s hand withdraws back into the comfort of his lap.</p><p>“Blessed are the righteous, the lights in the shadow,” Zev whispers. “In their blood the Maker’s will is written.”</p><p>“You truly believe it, don’t you…” Lenn’s voice rings with yearning.</p><p>“Yes. Yes, I do,” Zev says. “As surely as I believe in you, <em>bello</em>.” After the briefest pause, he adds: “I’d like to learn that prayer.”</p><p>Lenn gives him a searching look.</p><p>“This is a request as much as it is an offer,” Zevran says. “Let me pray with you. Unless, of course, you’d rather be alone, in which case, I'll—”</p><p>“No!” Even Lennan seems surprised by the urgency in his voice. “No, please stay… I’ll teach you.” A smile brushes past his lips and lingers in those deep, thoughtful eyes of his and Zev isn’t ready for the onslaught of feeling upon realizing he’s kindled that happy spark, however small and timid it is. It feels like saving the entire world and Zevran isn’t sure what to do with the implications of that.</p><p>Lennan picks up the prayer beads and reaches out for Zevran’s hand. “Well… There's—not really a prayer to teach,” he says, his tone apologetic. “There are dozens and dozens of verses out there. We choose the ones that resonate with us at the given moment. Arrange them as we see fit. Or we make up our own. I… can’t be telling you what to pray for.”</p><p>“Then let me repeat after you until I’ve gotten the hang of it, hmm?” Zevran says. “Is that alright? Or would you rather I didn’t?”</p><p>The smile in Lenn’s eyes brightens a bit. “That would be a shared prayer. That's… kind of an intimate thing.”</p><p>Zev grins back. “And? Anything wrong with that?”</p><p>Lenn shakes his head and chuckles softly. “Nothing. Nothing at all.” He meets and holds Zevran’s gaze as he begins to recite. “Light of the beacons, illuminate my path…” His eyes never leave Zev’s face, his hand nestles in Zev’s own and his voice rings so much clearer than before, carrying the words of his prayer up to the vaulted ceiling of the chantry. “When despair would have me weak, rekindle the flame of my hope.”</p><p>Zevran repeats after him, trying to commit each word to memory.</p><p>“Be my undying star.”</p><p>There’s a knot in the pit of Zev’s stomach and it tightens at the new fervour in Lenn’s voice and the warmth in his eyes.</p><p>“Be my vision of spring. Be my glimmer of dawn…”</p><p>They pray together, one line after another, punctuated by the clicking of Lenn’s prayer beads, until only one verse remains. “Light of my path, don’t let me walk alone.”</p><p>Zev’s voice catches in his throat as he repeats.</p><p>There’s that final silver clink – and Lenn lets go of Zev’s hand, just long enough to put his prayer beads around his neck and kiss the Dawn Star pendant before he tucks it beneath his shirt.</p><p>Their fingers entwine again and for a long while, neither of them speaks.</p><p>Zev is feeling too much, all at once. It stings in his eyes and burns at the back of his throat and deeper still - and his chest tightens around it until he’s rendered almost breathless.<br/>
He’s the first to break eye contact.</p><p>Lenn is the first one to break the silence, though. “My father believes that the key to our faith lies within. I think for him it truly does. But my mum would always say it’s in the eyes of those you… care about.”</p><p>Zevran lifts his eyes to meet Lenn’s again. “I’m going to have to agree with your mother.”</p><p>Lennan doesn’t say anything, he just leans in for a soft kiss. When he withdraws, he graces Zevran with a grateful smile – and, for the first time in many days, some of that anxious tension that’s been haunting him abates.</p><p>Zev returns the smile – and then pulls Lenn closer to return the kiss as well, with some added enthusiasm.</p><p>People indeed lose their hearts – and find their faith – in curious places.</p>
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